Passion Play
by SubtleSoliloquy
Summary: Tristan's done something seemingly unforgivable. Can they ever go back to how it was? T/R
1. Chapter 1

_So I really shouldn't be starting a new story, but this had been in my head. Hopefully it will be a short-ish story. Was meant to be a one-shot, but it just seems to keep going!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own the Gilmore Girls. _

Lying on an unmade bed, beer bottle dangling loosely his fingers and simply inhaling the scent of the bed, _her_ scent, Tristan contemplated how he had reached this point in his life. He had taken the past month off from work, citing the need for a long-term personal life and that time had been spent either blissfully in a drunken oblivion, or completely drowning in the strength of his memories. He supposed it was a forgone conclusion. This broken boy was simply broken beyond repair. Destined to break everything around him. Forever alone.

As he rolled his head to the side, he caught sight of a photograph lying flat on the bedside table. A sign of happier times, Tristan could vaguely recollect throwing a bottle at the picture in one of his moments of despair, at one of those points where he was halfway between drowning and oblivion. How the fates were cruel, offering a taste of happiness when it was universally known that he would never be able to keep it.

Reaching over to pick up the photo, Tristan was swept into memory. It had been a beautiful day and she had been the most gorgeous thing he had ever laid eyes on. She was perfection in that moment and in so many other moments in his life. He recalled his feelings of elation and slight disbelief that she had chosen him. That she was committing to him. Forever. Tristan should have known that forever and happiness didn't go together. It wasn't too long before he screwed it all up.

They had two amazing years together. Tristan had become comfortable and was even content. So naturally, he began looking to wait for the other shoe to drop. Perfection never lasted. Something always came along to screw it all up, and in this case that something was Jess Mariano. He moved to New York and, all too conveniently in Tristan's opinion, ran into Rory at work. Tristan quickly learned that during his hiatus from his Mary's life, Jess was the guy that was just the right amount of bad boy to win her over. They arranged to catch up often, something Tristan wasn't completely comfortable with but couldn't bring himself to object to. His job as the rising young star at a law firm wasn't exactly giving him lots of time to spend with his wife, so he figured it was fine, as long as her time with Jess wasn't chipping into Tristan/Rory time. November rolled around and suddenly Rory was more distant. She was less interested in sex, less receptive of his affections.

At the time it had all seemed so clear to Tristan. He couldn't believe he had been so stupid. Of course she was having an affair. He worked all the time and they both had society breeding in them, so it was natural for them to eventually lapse into the type of society marriage he hated. So instead of confronting her about it, Tristan channelled his energy elsewhere, into having his own affair. An eye for an eye was his personal justification. However, it turned out that it was easier said than done, as literally every part of his body was completely devoted to his girl.

Lying on the bed, even through the haze of the beer he had consumed, Tristan could clearly remember that night. The night where the shit hit the fan. They were attending a work function of hers at the paper; Jess was to be there as he was the celebrated guest columnist of the evening. Tristan had been downing lots of beer and wine all evening, figuring the only way to get through a night of celebration for his wife's paramour was to be at least mostly drunk. Rory had given him a look, silently questioning his behaviour while denying offers of flutes of champagne. Tristan just shook his head in response. Rory chose not to question it further, instead telling him she was going to go congratulate the paper's newest acquisition and would be back later. She needed to tell him something important. Tristan nodded in understanding and with a quick squeeze of her hand, Rory disappeared into the well-dressed crowd.

The rest was a bit of a blur. He remembered standing at the bar, his vision getting hazier. He remembered a girl in a red dress approaching him and then dragging him up the stairs. However, the thing he remembered the most clearly, the memory he'll never forget for the rest of his life was the look on her face, when she pushed open the door to the bedroom. Her face conveyed her emotions perfectly. Disbelief, horror and then absolute devastation. It had been the most sobering moment of his life. She had turned quickly, running down the hall and it took him a few seconds to throw the unknown girl off him, pull up his pants and race down the hall after her. He didn't care that they were at a society party at her boss' house. He didn't care about his appearance or about the gossips speculating about what had occurred. All he cared about was the brunette who was running down the hallway. The brunette who caught her heels in her dress. The brunette who tumbled down the stairs.

Putting the photo down, Tristan sat up on his bed, tearing himself out of his memory. It was all too hard. Quickly stripping, Tristan turned on the shower as hot as he could and stood under the burning water, accepting the physical pain as a welcome change from his constant emotional pain. She hadn't been having an affair. She had been pregnant. Jess' girlfriend was an obstetrician who had been helping her out. She was going to tell him the night of the party. She had lost the baby from the fall. These thoughts circled around his head, making him scream out loud. His life could have been so different at that moment. He could be lying in bed, Rory beside him while he stroked her swollen belly. Maybe he would've been able to feel the life they had created kicking inside her. Instead, Tristan was alone. Completely alone, defeated by fate and doomed to be miserable. This couldn't be it. This shouldn't be it. Stepping out of the shower, Tristan quickly dried off, slipping into a pair of boxers and retaking his place on the bed. There wasn't any point in trying to do anything else. Suddenly the sound of the doorbell echoed throughout the house. For a moment Tristan considered answering the door, but this thought was quickly quelled. Misery, despite what everyone says, doesn't love company. He then heard a key in the door, and hesitant footsteps echoed upstairs from the front hall. Knowing it could only be one person who had a key, Tristan rushed downstairs.

"Ror???"


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: refer to chapter one. **

**I'm not sure how much I like this chapter. In fact I really don't like it at all, so I might change it later. I don't have a planned out storyline for this, I'm just kinda playing it by ear. Please let me know what you think!**

Standing at the foot of the stairs, heart pounding wildly Tristan looked towards the entranceway to see a brunette standing there hesitantly. Just not the brunette he wanted to see. Not the Lorelai he wanted to see. The elder Lorelai looked uncharacteristically ill at ease as she watched him, blue eyes so similar to the ones he loved studying him carefully, analysing him.

"Tristan, hey," she said hesitantly, reaching up a hand in a half-hearted attempt at a wave. "How are you kiddo?" Feeling all his adrenaline and newfound energy leave him, Tristan found himself almost collapsing on the stairs. Even he had no idea that his desperation to see his ex…. no, still his wife, was so palpable.

"Lorelai," Tristan said tiredly when he'd found his voice.

"I came to get some of Ro… I mean her things," Lorelai said catching herself, pity evident her eyes.

"It's ok, you can say her name. You're here to pick up her things? I thought you would be here to hang me by my toenails while you dipped me into a pot of boiling oil for what I did," Tristan stated dejectedly.

"To be honest, I was…going to give you the whole 'protective mother' tirade," Lorelai answered truthfully. "But then I saw you…and it looks like you've been beating yourself up enough."

Catching a glimpse of himself in the decorative mirror in the hallway, Tristan realised he could barely recognise himself. His usually finely kept hair was much longer than he would usually allow, his cheeks were sunken and sallow, his eyes seemed darker in colour and, well, let's just say he now realised there was a definite reason why growing a large beard had never been an ambition of his.

"Seriously Tristan, have you been eating in the last month?" Lorelai questioned, her tone soft.

"Liquid diet," Tristan responded with a wry grin.

"Not funny. You need to take care of yourself Tristan. Rory would hate to see you like this."

Upon hearing her name, Tristan's grin instantly disappeared. "How is she Lorelai?"

"She's doing better than she was. We're all helping her get by. She is, or she will be ok, soon hopefully," Lorelai responded somberly, her concern for her daughter evident. "I know she won't say it, but she misses you."

The idea that Rory might be missing him hadn't even crossed his mind. It struck him like a lightning bolt, he couldn't process it, couldn't even begin to think about this possibility. She missed him? After everything, she maybe missed him? Did that mean there was a chance? Could there be the potential for everything he hadn't dared to even hope for?

"So, anyway, I need to get some clothing," Lorelai gently interrupted, shaking Tristan out of his reverie.

"Oh of course. You know where the bedroom is, right? It's a bit of a mess, I've had a few tantrums and…" Lorelai quickly marched passed him up the stairs to the bedroom. Tristan quickly followed behind her.

"Oh Tristan…" Lorelai said as she surveyed the room. Tristan scratched his head ashamedly,

"Yea I guess I've been taking the phrase 'drowning your sorrows' to a new level."

The bed was still the rumpled mess he'd been laying on earlier, his recently discarded towel adding to the debris of clothing on the floor. Strewn about there were numerous beer bottles mixed in, as well as the remains of his good friends Jack Daniels and Johnnie Walker.

As Tristan sat on the bed, he watched as Lorelai methodically packed some of Rory's clothing into a duffle bag he had not noticed earlier. Taking more of his heart away with him. Once the bag was shut, Lorelai slammed the closet door shut and turned to him, slightly scaring him with the determined look which had suddenly taken up residence upon her face.  
"Alright Tristan, downstairs, dining room. It is time for a pep talk," stated Lorelai as she grabbed his wrist and dragged him along.

By the time Tristan had found his voice he was seated at the formal dining table with Lorelai sitting across from him. She was deceptively strong. "I don't know why you're giving me a pep talk right now Lorelai. Shouldn't you be telling her all about why she's too good for me and how there are plenty of other fish in the sea etc?" Tristan said clearly, looking her pointedly in the eye.

"I've given her that speech," Lorelai said, "but she loves you. Somehow through all this, she loves you. Looking at you now, I know you love her. I know you regret what you did. It's destroying you and she loves you."

"She can't possibly love me. I'm an asshole. Worse than an asshole. I'm the asshole that the assholes call an asshole, that's how assholey I am."

"Right, you're an asshole. But you recognise that. And aside from this absolute disaster of a situation, you've always treated her right."

"Lorelai, where exactly are you trying to go with this pep talk? I mean, there's no way she would ever take me back, I can't imagine you would want me to so when the divorce is finalised, you won't need to ever have anything to do with me and I can rot in peace. You needn't have my demise on your conscience."

Lorelai suddenly stood up, slamming her hands down on the table, getting his full attention.

"Look Tristan. I'm not saying I at all condone what you did. I'm not saying that you're not an asshole. What I am saying is we don't live in a fairytale world. There is no perfect person, there is no happily ever after, it's all a myth. What we have is reality, and reality throws crap at you day after day. If I've learned anything in life it's that. But I've also learned that the main thing is to hang onto what makes you happy despite all the crap. You make Rory happy Tristan. Well, actually right now you make her sad and angry, but usually, you make her happier than I've ever seen her. Happier than she was with Dean or Jess or Logan."

Tristan was suddenly filled with anger. Who was she, to walk into his house and fill him with false hope. He would never get her back. She would never love him again.

"So what Lorelai? I'm obviously not her knight in shining whatever so why are you here telling me this? Normal people don't do this sort of thing to the people they love. Knights is shining armour sure as hell don't do this to the people they love!" Tristan began to say angrily, as he stood up to meet her gaze. "There's obviously something wrong with me, I'm not wired to treat her right so you should be telling her to run far, far away from me and you should be setting the Stars Hollow mob onto me. You should be inflicting bodily harm on me or at least threatening it."

"Do you love her???" Lorelai questioned loudly and clearly over Tristan's tirade.

"Of course I love her! What sort of stupid half-assed question is that?" Tristan responded angrily.

"That's what I needed to hear. See, this Tristan? This is why I want you with my daughter," Lorelai said more calmly as she sat down slowly. Tristan began to argue when Lorelai quickly interrupted him, "sit down and shut up right now Dugrey." She said it with such a quiet confidence that Tristan found himself obeying.

"You're so passionate about her Tristan. You want to give her up because it's what's best for her even though you know it will practically kill her. You're obviously falling apart and yet you've given her complete space," Lorelai said. "I want you to fight for her Tristan. You should be with her. I know that. Paris knows that. Lane knows that. We've been holding meetings over this you know," she continued, matter-of-factly. "Win her over, we know you can."

"But I don't deserve to Lorelai," Tristan whispered quietly, his head resting in his palms, the anger ebbing away leaving only the quiet despair and desperation which had consumed him for the last month. Lorelai reached out and took his hand. "You do Tristan. Think about it. Make yourself believe you're worthy and then I'm sure you can convince her pretty easily. The biggest thing standing between you and what you want is you."

Tristan mulled over her words in his head. There was no doubt in his mind that he loved her. She was the girl for him. But, was it possible that in that same way, he was the only guy for her?

"Think about it Tristan," Lorelai repeated softly, standing up. "I'll let myself out."

With that, Lorelai left Tristan alone with his thoughts.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I don't own anything! More notes below.**

Two weeks had passed since Lorelai had walked into his life and sent it spinning, and in those two weeks Tristan had nothing but time to think. After showing up half-drunk or hungover for two solid weeks at work, Tristan's boss had pulled Tristan into his office and made him take a leave of absence. Basically, go home and clean up before he did something really stupid and would have to get fired. He was onto day 35 of his involuntary holiday.

Tristan lay on the rumpled sheets, he was sure they smelt pretty pungent around now, and waited for the inevitably of his alarm to click on to signify it was 7am and time to start the day. Another day of nothing. Another day without Rory. Logically, he knew that there was no point keeping an alarm on. Hell, there was no point even keeping track of time, but it was a habit which he'd kept for years and if you didn't have tradition to keep you going when life went to hell, what did you have. Surely enough, the radio clicked on, the sounds of Bon Iver's Skinny Love drifting over the airways. Just another thing to remind Tristan of his Mary. Rory had fallen in love with Bon Iver instantly after hearing his music featured on Grey's Anatomy and had dragged Tristan to the CD store as soon as she could to buy For Emma, Forever Ago. He had heard the CD millions of times, in the car, in the kitchen while Rory attempted to cook, drifting out of Rory's study as she used it for mood music, but listening now, Tristan realised he had never really paid attention to the lyrics. As he listened to the acoustic strumming of the song, Justin Vernon's voice spoke to him and it felt like a message from Rory.

I told you to be patient

I told you to be fine

I told you to be balanced

I told you to be kind

Now all your love is wasted?

Then who the hell was I?

Now I'm breaking at the britches

And at the end of all your lines

Who will love you?

Who will fight?

Who will fall far behind?

Fight…seemed to be a theme with the messages he was getting lately. Lorelai wanted him to fight, surely that was a clear indicator that it was the right thing to do. This song was telling him to fight, surely that was also…well it probably wasn't a clear indicator of anything, but Rory liked the song so maybe it meant she found the idea of fighting for love a romantic sentiment. Turning his head to his bedside table, Tristan's eyes found the picture which he had sat upright again and came to a conclusion. It was time to get up off this bed and stop being pathetic. He was Tristan DuGrey. He was a fighter. It was time to shake of this fatalistic view of life which had taken a hold of him and time to start going after what he wanted. No, what he needed. It was time to listen to Lorelai and Bon Iver. He could even hear Rory's voice in his head telling him that everyone had to get off the bathroom floor and out of their prom dress eventually. He wasn't just going to get out of his metaphorical prom dress, he was going to burn it. Suddenly disgusted at how pathetic he had been for the last few days, Tristan resolved to go see Rory and begin Operation: Win Back Mary. Sitting up and reaching for the phone, Tristan decided to call in the big guns. Paris Gellar.

**Edited as of 13/11**


	4. Chapter 4

**I own nothing! Also, I've edited the last chapter, just the final paragraph. I'm trying to get back into the rhythm of writing, please forgive me!**

"You're a dickhead", greeted the ever-pleasant Paris Gellar, as Tristan opened the front door.

"Wow Paris," responded Tristan, "hey, how are you? See, that's how normal people greet each other when they first see each other."

"Shut up. You're a dickhead. Seriously. You call me for help? No pleasantries. And you're a dickhead."

"I think you already mentioned that a few times," stated Tristan, running his hand through his already dishevelled hair.

"I want you to say it. And that you're a douchebag. And that you don't deserve her. Then maybe I'll do it," responded Paris, as she stood in the doorway, arms crossed looking every bit like the editor who had ruled the Franklin with an iron fist.

"I'm a dickhead, a douchebag and a million other things. I made a stupid, stupid mistake and of course I don't deserve her. But it doesn't mean I don't want her back," replied Tristan in exasperation. "Does this actually mean you're going to help me?"

"Well, I get satisfaction hearing you say all that. Plus, Rory and you were one of my only couple friends so now I don't have anyone to go out with Jess and I. So yes. I'll help you. Now take all of this." With that, Paris handed Tristan several bags and strode into the house.

Taking a seat at the polished wooden table, which took up much of the formal dining room, Paris motioned for Tristan to hand her the bags. "If we're going to do this and I'm going to help you, you are doing exactly what I say, got it?"

Tristan responded with a dubious look, as he sat himself down opposite her. "I wanted your help but I figured that we could…"

"GOT IT???" Paris interrupted,

"Alright alright, I got it!" Tristan responded, raising his hands in surrender.

Standing up, Paris walked over to Tristan and began to walk slowly around him.

"Umm, what do you think you're doing?" questioned Tristan.

"Before we can start anything, you need to do step one," replied Paris, still studying him carefully as she walked around him."

"And step one is…"

"Look Tristan, I will admit that in my younger, misguided years I had a bit of a crush on you."

"I wouldn't call it a crush so much as a stalkerish infatuation Paris," said Tristan with a smirk. For which he received a hit to his head.

"Ouch! Jeez Paris…"

"As is was saying, step one will require you to regain some of your former physical glory. Meaning, get rid of the homeless beard, have a shower and start exercising again. Also, try and clean up the house while you're at it," said Paris as she walked back over to her chair, bringing one of her bags with her.

"Here, I brought you a shaver and some soap. Lorelai warned me that you were in a sorry state," said Paris as she slid the aforementioned items across the table. Gathering her things together she gave him a look of sympathy.

"She does miss you. But you really screwed up. I really want to help you but you need to shape up. Be the man she fell in love with Tristan." And with that, Paris strode towards the front door. "Call me when you're ready for step two Tristan. I'm really rooting for you."

As the door shut behind her, Tristan gathered the items together and walked up to the master bathroom. All of Rory's cosmetics still lined the counter, another reminder of their life together. Looking into the mirror, however, Tristan saw that instead of a broken man in his reflection, there was determination in his eyes. He was going to get her back. And with that, Tristan plugged in the shaver to hopefully begin a new phase in his life.


End file.
